the f u dance

everywhere

the rains have absolutely pounded all night
water sheets off the piles of glazed snow
and the three or four feet of
once fluffy white
that lies around now
with a shiny coat of wet varnish

everything that was covered
now collects runoff at its base
the trucks the woodshed the house
all have a moat
of frosty standing water
encircling them

the stream rages
its dreams of class v rapids
finally coming true
as it screams by
carving eerie forms
in the once stilling ice

glad my wellies are still waterproof

cant imagine that
come september
people will be bitching
about dried up wells and
little rainfall
as i swim in slush
on the way to the mailbox

oh look
the radar says snow tonight

maybe im getting even more jaded
but
uh
enough already

sorry
treefiveleven

joy

my children say she was aptly named
a woman who would not succumb
to the bitterness of age or illness
who would smile so genuinely
it could melt the hardest crust
layered on your soul
she left quietly
in the company
of angels

rest sweet joy

sorry
threeeleven

wow a month gone
ripping by like a
nightmare


sorry